Wisps

Woman’s white hair
wisps across like fog
on mountain top
lifting, trailing mist,
mop of paralyzed
particles hiding eyes.

Bridge ends
in reflection
disturbed by wind;
ripples span
to opposite shore.

Cattails wiggle
as carp maneuver
toolies back and forth,
suck river surface
like a boy’s lips
on a popsicle.

Woman sits
elbow on knee,
hand on chin,
mind on…


Diane Webster enjoys the challenge of transforming images into words. If she can envision her poem, she can write what she sees and her readers can visualize her ideas. That’s the excitement of writing. Her work has appeared in Better Than Starbucks, The Evansville Review, Caveat Lector, and other literary magazines.

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